You Never Know.....

I went for a walk to the store w/ Arianna last night.

She brought along a purse she had found, and stuffed w/ various things to take along on the walk. She was going through the list of what she brought, and pulled out this little toy plastic harp.

She gave me the following explanation:

"Oh, and I brought along this harp. *pause* Because you NEVER know when you might need to make an animal fall asleep."

I guess I can't argue w/ that logic.....

My Grandma Vs. The Bees

Dave posted about his problem w/ wasps, and that reminded me about a story my dad told when I was growing up. It's pretty funny, so I thought I would share.

Now, my dad is in his 80's. So, he grew up in the depression, etc. In the mid to late '30's, they were living out in the country on a farm outside Eugene, Oregon. They had the traveling vacuum salesman in that day, and one day my grandpa splurged and bought my grandma one of those Electrolux canister vacuums when the vacuum guy came calling.

My grandma was ecstatic. She'd never had a vacuum cleaner before, and thought that this electric machine was some sort of mythical wonder.

One day, my dad and his brother were going out the back door, and unbeknownst to them, a swarm of yellow jackets had built a nest above the door. So, the slamming of the screen door irritated the bees, and they attacked, stinging the kids. They ran inside, told their mom what had happened, and an idea formed in her head. If the vacuum sucked up everything else, why couldn't it suck up the bees? Problem solved!

So, she snuck outside with her wonder machine, stuck the nozzle up to the hive, and turned on the vacuum. Confused and angry bees came zooming out of the hive, trying to figure out what the noise was, and the minute they appeared.....*ZOOP*....up the vacuum they went. My grandma was SO proud of herself, and in a few minutes, the bees were dispatched into the inner sanctum of her beloved vacuum.

Only, apparently they weren't dead. She could hear them buzzing around angrily inside. Hmm...this posed a huge problem. She would not be able to clean out the vacuum w/o being attacked by a swarm of violated bees. And....what if they figured out how to fly up the hose??

Oh no, now she was starting to panic....what to do??

So, she thought about it, and decided that maybe she should try to find something to kill the bees while they were still inside the vacuum. She set about finding various rat poisons, cleaning solvents, any version of powdered death she could find. She poured a little of each onto the ground and set about vacuuming up each little pile, figuring ONE of the powders would kill the bees.

Meanwhile, my dad's cocker spaniel had wandered over, and sat a distance away, watching the proceedings w/ a wary eye.

Now, my grandma did not take into consideration what might happen if you mix various chemicals, and then apply heat....like the heat of the motor of the vacuum. She started sucking up the different powders, when all of the sudden.....

*BOOOOOM!!*

The canister of the vacuum went flying like a missile across the yard, disengaging itself from the hose my grandma was holding. She stood there, holding the limp hose, watching in open mouthed astonishment as the canister flew across the yard and hit their cocker spaniel square in his little cocker butt.

He jumped up in the air a few feet, and went yelping out into the field, terrorized by the flying vacuum of death.

My grandma was crushed. Not only had she destroyed her precious vacuum, and caused said vacuum to attack her dog, but she was unsure if she had actually even managed to KILL the bees. She wasn't about to go check, so she left the smoking canister where it landed, and went inside, dejected.

When my grandpa got home, she tearfully told him what had happened, and he alternated from laughing hysterically to being upset that she'd destroyed something which had cost him a lot of money. He figured he'd better go see if she actually accomplished killing the bees, and cautiously crept up to the canister. A few bees were buzzing drunkenly around it, but they seemed dazed. He figured he could probably move the canister, so he got a bag, put the canister in it, and took it out to a far field where he dumped it.

He eventually got my grandma another vacuum, with the strict instructions that she NEVER try anything like that again.

Only problem was, that whenever she decided to vacuum, the dog would go TEARING out of the house, yelping all the way, and wouldn't return for a few hours.

Guess I Won't Have To Worry About Him Getting The Flu

Last night, I was bringing Jack downstairs, and caught a whiff of what smelled like granny perfume.

Intrigued, I sniffed his hair. Yup, definately coming from his hair. Granny Perfume?? What the heck?

So, I went into the livingroom and asked Arianna: "Hey, why does your brother smell like perfume?" Thinking maybe she put some of her lotion on him, or something.

She got this look...you know the "Oh, shit! I've been found out. Lie! Lie quickly!!!" and responded w/ "Um....I dunno...?"

With a sense of foreboding, I brought out the "Mom of DOOOOM!" voice. "ARIANNA! WHY does your brother smell like perfume??"

So, she responded, "Oh, ok! It's because I sprayed him w/ that ant spray."

*MOMENTARY HORROR!!!*

Me- "ANT SPRAY?? You sprayed him with ANT SPR.....Wait....we don't have ant spray. What are you talking about??"

Arianna- "That stuff you sometimes kill ants with. You know, the stuff that smells like apples."

*HORROR RETURNING!!*

Me- "LYSOL??? You sprayed your brother w/ LYSOL?? When was this??"

Arianna- *sensing danger* "Um...earlier? When I told you I killed those ants by the sliding glass door."

Me- "That was this AFTERNOON! That was HOURS ago! You failed to mention to me that you ALSO SPRAYED YOUR BROTHER!!"

Arianna- "Wellll......"

Me- "What on earth posessed you to spray YOUR BROTHER w/ LYSOL??"

Arianna- "He smelled."

Sooo.....after an immediate washing of Jack, which I'm not sure really mattered, because it had been about 6 hours since he was....disinfected....a little "talk" with Arianna was in order.

Needless to say, she won't be spraying her brother w/ various cleaning supplies anytime soon.
Seriously....what the hell?? It was just the disinfectant spray, and not like heavy-duty industrial cleaner, so he's fine....but...what the hell??? "He SMELLED"??

Ay Yi Yi...

Dear Woman Walking Through Wal-Mart:

While I applaud your amazing body, I think there are better ways to attain it than by staring at the diet shakes, and then exclaiming loudly "It's just easier NOT to eat, than eat these things!" before walking away without putting any said shakes in your cart.

While your fashion sense may be "in", I think that skin tight camouflage capris w/ scrunchy legs and little bows (on camo??), 4 inch wedge sandals, ripped jean jacket, and that glittery tank top exposing your huge bosoms MIGHT be dressing a just a little too young...
.
You know....considering when the teenage boys that are drooling after you, and eventually work their way from ogling your body to actually seeing your face realize that you are old enough to be THEIR GRANDMA!!!

Seriously.

You are causing the rise in therapy costs for 13-16 year old boys.

I realize you're trying to hold on to your youth....but, you may be pushing it just a WEE bit too far.....

After I got past the "outfit", your hair, which has been permed, colored & highlighted, teased, gelled, and curling ironed into extreme submission (and good chance it will fall out in 2-5 years, btw.), the 7 inches of foundation, blush, mascara, eyeliner, eyeshadow, and lipstick you're wearing, and the OBVIOUS chin and eye work you've had done (bet your plastic surgeon LOVES you!), it only took me about 2.5 seconds to realize that you're pushing your mid 50's.

Honestly, who do you think you're fooling?

Rule #1 for middle age- When you're sharing clothes w/ your 16 year old grand-daughter, MAYBE it's time to look into shopping somewhere other than the junior dept at the Limited.

I'm just sayin'.

Sincerely,
A Concerned Fellow Shopper